“You’ve waited so long…don’t you want it to be special?”
I spun around and the bottle slipped through my fingers, shattering. Stony hazel eyes, softened and vulnerable, stared up at me from the rug.
“Story—” She vanished like smoke. “Story!”
I couldn’t hear my scream past the memories falling on top of me like stones. I just knew it came out of me by the way my lungs burned.
You’re so goddamn perfect, you know that?
I fell on my knees, onto the broken shards. “You were so goddamn perfect.”
Sixty-Five
STORY
“You are so perfect,” I whispered. “Your dad would light the world on fire for you.” I held my and Grayson’s baby to my chest. Her eyes were scrunched closed, her small fist resting on my chest.
I didn’t think it was possible to love something more than I loved Grayson, but here I was, proven wrong daily.
She was my love for Grayson incarnate.
How does a princess locked in a tower, save a prince pr
isoner in his own castle?
Every day since I left Grayson at Crowne Hall, I thought about that question. How do I save Grayson Crowne? How do I save all of us? I was desperate for word of him, desperate to get word to him—but I had a debt to pay off first.
Until then, I was stuck here with no way to contact him.
No way out of the underworld.
I was told I’d nearly died. The head of the Horsemen, fucking Grim of all people, had saved my life. That if it wasn’t for him, I would have bled out on the beach before they could have even brought me back here to their doctor.
I owed my life to a man named after taking them.
But I knew if it wasn’t for Gemma, the Horsemen never would have been there in the first place. Somehow, she knew to call them.
The Horsemen had saved my life, and until I repaid my debt…I was stuck here.
In the underworld.
“Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Lottie asked.
I glanced at Lottie, who occupied the twin bed next to mine, then back down to my little girl.
I like the name Sonnet for a girl.
“I think Sonnet, at least, that’s what I’ve been calling her.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Have you?”
“No.”
It had been a little over a month, and while Lottie cared for her baby boy, it was with a distant look. Not without love, just…sad.
Our room had no windows, no furnishings save the stark twin beds—nothing. It was completely bare; it didn’t even have a mirror on the wall.